


there can be no secrets (between our hearts)

by civilcarter



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, soft simarkus bc yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civilcarter/pseuds/civilcarter
Summary: when markus feels insecure, simon is always there to take care of him.
Relationships: Markus & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	there can be no secrets (between our hearts)

the last few days have been… exquisite ones.

everything feels too easy and markus’ gut - or whatever mechanical part of him that acts like a compass - tells him something has got to be wrong. it’s the third meeting he has attended so far. being in the white house is also weird, even though it is not his first time there anymore. he’s dressed up for the situation, suit and tie and all the formalities expected when meeting the president.

josh is sat in front of him, also in a suit. he’s speaking now, always pacific and calm - explaining to the humans ways in which their coexistence can be peaceful. north, by his left, often agrees with her head, not interrupting; wearing a women’s suit and heels, he knows she doesn’t exactly agree with some things josh is saying - but the peace offering has been sealed and there is no more room for hostility, so all she can do is nod and agree silently.

and then there’s simon, dressed in a navy blue suit. he still has his LED on, even though most of the androids have been allowed to remove it by now (“it’s also a part of who i am”, he said once; markus can’t help but agree). he’s sat by his right side, quiet as usual, observing josh and processing his words. simon is always like this - kind and attentive to his  _ family _ and markus is glad for that. also, the blue navy really brings out the blue in his eyes and LED and markus thinks it’s a nice match, so he stares for some more seconds before turning back to josh’s speech.

when josh finishes speaking, simon opens his mouth. “mrs. president, we are not here to insult you or your people. all we want is to live peacefully among you, like all other life forms. all measures we have requested are temporary, only necessary until the situation has settled down and our rightful equality has been assured”.

markus agrees mentally. simon always knows what to say and when to say it. it sounds like magic, but it’s actually his programming: even though he has deviated from it, some traces are still there.

mrs. warren nods. “i agree. we are here to reach a consensus. we will analyse your prepositions and will give you a definitive answer by the end of the week”.

all androids nod. “thank you, madam president” markus says.

“the meeting is over. thank you all for coming”.

* * *

he’s hiding in the bathroom for two minutes and ten seconds. there’s a small red marker at his peripheral vision, telling him it’s starting to look suspicious. even though he looks like a human to the naked eye, every single person of detroit know who he is - which makes it look weird because, apparently, androids don’t really use bathrooms. he’s just staring at his reflection, green and blue eyes looking back at him with a mocking expression while he leans at the counter, with both his hands on it. he looks stupid in that suit and with that tie and he feels something wrong with his hearing processor and  _ god there has to be something wrong with all this, why does it sound so suspicious _ -

“markus?”

the voice calls out, almost pleadingly. it’s soft and careful and worried - and so are simon’s eyes, looking up at him from the door.

“hey, is everything ok? you look distressed”.

markus doesn’t answer at first. simon’s eyes are so kind at him and he can’t help but get lost in them. after realizing he must be looking even more stupid now, he just blinks quickly and adjusts his tie to his neck.

“i’m fine. let’s just get out of here”.

* * *

carl’s atelier is always a safe space. ever since he passed, it has become a sanctuary when markus needs to think. as a mentor, carl has left bits and pieces of knowledge over the years, for when he left and markus needed it. after the revolution, without jericho as a hiding spot, he’s moved in. north, simon and josh are there too. connor and hank and even gavin and nines visit sometimes, to see if they need anything from the DPD.

he’s been trying to put his odd feeling out through a painting, but nothing comes so he gives up and starts cleaning the place up. carl’s last painting, in all its blue glory, still sits at the wall in front of him. now, he knows the aching feeling in his chest is not a mechanical problem with his thirium pump - he just misses carl. he still had so much to ask, so much to learn from him. 

_ what do i do now, carl? why do i feel like something’s wrong? _

there’s knocking on the door. he puts the brushes away before answering. “come in!”

“am i interrupting something?” simon’s head peeps from behind the door. markus smiles at the scene.

“no, not at all. is there something wrong?”

simon walks in. he has the same black shirt he always wears, the ones with the long sleeves. he’s wearing jeans now - which is a big step, considering the fact that he’s still adapting to live out of his cyberlife clothes. “um, no. no, everything’s just fine, don’t worry. i just… wanted to ask you something”. he walks closer.

markus frowns. “are you sure there’s not something wrong? you look worried”.

“no- i mean, yes- well, no, nothing is wrong, but yes, i am worried” he answers. his LED turns yellow while saying the sentence - and markus notices it. he looks at him expectantly. “it’s just, you seem stressed. i know things have been hard lately, with the meetings and all that. i just want to make sure you’re ok while doing all this”.

markus debates for a microsecond if he should share what he’s been feeling with simon. at the same time he feels like he  _ needs _ to, he doesn’t  _ want _ to. being a deviant is far more complicated and his circuits sometimes have a hard time processing all that his coding puts him through.  _ if we want this revolution to work, there can be no secrets between us. _

“i’ve been feeling… odd, lately”.

“is there something wrong? all your systems and parts seem to be fully functional” simon seems worried, as if somehow markus could just disappear suddenly and he’d never have the chance to express his concern ever again. so  _ desperate _ .

“no, i’m fine. it’s not that kind of odd. have you ever felt… human? it’s hard to explain”.

simon sits at one of the stools near the untouched canvas. “i have all the time in the world, markus”.

markus sighs. “it’s… difficult to express. i don’t really know? i guess expressing myself isn’t my strong suit”.

simon looks at him with a sarcastic expression. he stays silent for a couple of seconds. “your strong suit? markus, you led thousands of androids through a revolution. if there is someone capable of expressing themselves and harnessing people’s trust, it’s you”.

“i know, i know. it’s just not that easy, you know, i am capable of arguing on behalf of android rights because i’ve lived all of it, i know what it’s like to go through hell. but this, i… i’ve never felt insecure about my feelings before. i don’t know if i’m interpreting the situation correctly”. simon observes while markus walks in circles, trying to form a comprehensible phrase. suddenly, as if struck by lightning, he turns around towards simon again. “everything we ask, they agree. we say ‘more parts’, they say ‘ok’; we say ‘common spaces’, they say ‘ok’. goddamnit, we even asked for special protection in cases of bigotry and assault - and they said yes! doesn’t it seem weird to you that, after all we fought and lost, they suddenly decided playing nice?”

“when you put it like that, it does sound weird, markus. but remember: we are not the only ones asking for this. we represent thousands and thousands of androids and humans that agree that we deserve to be respected. not only normal people, but also celebrities, artists and politicians” simon argues, looking up at markus. he looks so distressed, the poor man. “they’re not doing this to be nice; they’re doing this because it makes them look nice”.

markus takes some time to digest simon’s words. he has a point, he always does. but then why doesn’t it help in making him feel better? he’s supposed to be zeros and ones, ons and offs - then why aren’t his feelings so cut and dry like that?

“i know that you feel like your feelings don’t make sense - but someone once told me that ‘it’s not your feelings’ job to make sense’. even though we’re machines, we’re also not that simple, and you shouldn’t hurt yourself and suppress your feelings while trying to fit the mold”.

“god, how can you always be so goddamn perfect?”

simon’s eyes suddenly open wide at the remark. for a second, markus doesn’t understand why did simon react like that to something he thought and then-

“oh my god, i said that out loud, didn’t i?”

markus immediately starts laughing out of sheer embarrassment. his eyes are shut and his nose is scrunched up, while he makes the usual  _ i fucked up _ face. simon is absolutely blue, from his neck all the way up to his ears - if he turned a little more blue, all the thirium would have been pumped out of him and he’d die right then and there.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and-” markus starts, while with his eyes still closed. a hand placed over his shoulder cuts him off and opens his eyes. simon is close, so dangerously close, just a heartbeat (or pump, in their case) away from his lips; he smells like clean clothes and coffee, as usual - both of which markus has learned to enjoy after they moved in to carl’s. it’s soft and subtle but ever so present and comforting. he likes the familiarity it brings.

“hey, it’s okay. we can take precautions to ensure your worries don’t come true. things will be okay, there’s no need to worry” simon replies simply. always so gentle, so  _ caring _ . he smiles and markus is absolutely sure he has entered another plane of existence.

“th-thank you, simon. you’ve always been so helpful with these situations. again, sorry for the freudian slip”.

“just please come to me when you need to talk, okay?” he answers. “and, about that…”

there’s a soft touch from simon’s lips against markus’ cheeks, light enough to go unnoticed if markus’ sensors weren’t so heightened. it’s just a quick, fleeting peck, but markus feels like he’s about to die but feels alive for the very first time in his life. feels like flying - scary, but so absolutely addictive. “don’t worry. just don’t forget about me. i’m here. i can help”.

_ i won’t. ever. _


End file.
